


i really wish i hated you

by nerdfighter721



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, angsty, the four of them were best friends when they were alive, this is a bit of a sad story (but it has happy moment!), tw: alcoholism in chapter 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27537397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdfighter721/pseuds/nerdfighter721
Summary: “How’d you meet?”Bobby raised an eyebrow, “It’s not that interesting.”Pushing her hair to one shoulder, she looked up at him and shrugged, “All bands have some interesting founding story.”“I met the guys my junior year of high school, when they were Freshmen,” Bobby explained, “We shared some music classes and realized pretty quickly that we worked well together.” He was glossing over a lot, and the memories of various group projects and late night hangouts came flooding over him, but Rose didn’t really need to know that. Instead, Bobby just gave a sideways smile and shrugged, “The rest is Sunset Curve history.”ORA glimpse at various times of Bobby's life pre- and post- the death of his three best friends.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 61





	1. July 1995

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is inspired by 'I Really Wish I Hated You' by Blink-182. I'd suggest listening to it, because I will throw random references to the song in various parts of this story.
> 
> As a disclaimer: I don't think Trevor's a GOOD guy, by any means, but this song seriously inspired me to explore his character a little bit more. I REFUSE to believe that Luke, Reggie, and Alex would be in a band with someone who they weren't in it 100% with. I think Bobby was probably a good guy, Trevor just spiraled into a downward hole.

**July - 1995**

“Don’t you guys have to go get hot dogs?” Bobby had asked, because he was _trying_ to impress this pretty girl - _Rose_ , she said her name was - and he knew that the guys wouldn’t let him do that.

Luke pushed him backwards, leaning in to Rose, “Yeah, he had a hamburger for lunch,” He told her, before turning on his heels and heading out. Alex and Reggie turned to follow him, but not before Reggie tapped Bobby on the shoulder, grinning. Bobby glared at him, his thoughts going to _you assholes_ , but deciding against saying that because _pretty girl_.

Once they were out of earshot, Bobby smiled his charming smile, “Sorry about them,”

“Not at all,” Rose waved him off, gesturing to the bar behind them that she had to wipe down, “How long have you guys been playing?”

“Together? Two years, almost three,” Bobby told her, pushing his hair away from his face, vaguely aware of how sweat-coated his whole face still was.

Rose nodded to him, “How’d you meet?”

Bobby raised an eyebrow, “It’s not that interesting.”

Pushing her hair to one shoulder, she looked up at him and shrugged, “All bands have some interesting founding story.”

“I met the guys my junior year of high school, when they were Freshmen,” Bobby explained, “We shared some music classes and realized pretty quickly that we worked well together.” He was glossing over a lot, and the memories of various group projects and late night hangouts came flooding over him, but Rose didn’t really need to know that. Instead, Bobby just gave a sideways smile and shrugged, “The rest is Sunset Curve history.”

Rose smiled and Bobby wished he had a camera on him, because her smile fully took his breath away, “This your first band?”

“First and only,” Bobby told her, because while they may butt heads sometimes, they were all too close to ever leave the band. If Luke’s and Alex’s breakup didn’t tear them apart, nothing would.

“You’re lucky you found something so powerful on your first try,” Rose nodded knowingly, “Hold on to that.”

Bobby leaned against the bar, “I plan to.” Rose flashed him another smile, Bobby’s heart did the thing again, before she stepped sideways, further down the bar to the next section she had to work on. He had to take a deep breath before he joined her again, looking around the Orpheum - _that he and the guys_ sold out!!! - “So, what brings you to working here if you make your own music?”

“Something needs to pay the bills and this way I can meet some cool musicians, too.”

Bobby tried not to preen, leaning on the bar, “You think we’re cool?”

“You’re talented, haven’t decided how cool you are just yet,” She laughed, “Although, the amount of your fans we’ve had coming in asking about you since your performance was announced,” She gestured towards the entrance, “Or the line you have waiting outside, tells me you probably aren’t half bad.”

Bobby was about to respond, but someone tapped on the bar, and both he and Rose looked up. It was a larger guy, tall and lean, “Rose, Martin wants a staff meeting before the doors open. Something about the menu changing.”

Rose exhaled softly, “Again?” Before looking back at Bobby, “It was nice talking to you, see you on the stage.” She winked at him then followed the guy towards a room off to the side, Bobby presumed it was a staff room or the kitchen.

Bobby watched where she disappeared from for a few more seconds, before he snapped back to himself. Suddenly, he was glad that the rest of the guys weren’t here, because they would have teased him _endlessly_ about his red cheeks, his breathlessness - she winked at him, _she totally liked him_! Taking a steadying breath, grin still on his face, he headed back up to the stage, deciding to help out until the guys came back or the doors finally opened.

Twenty minutes later, the guys still weren’t back, but he heard an announcement call that the doors would be opening in half an hour. Bobby frowned as we went back into the green room, checking to see if the guys had possibly snuck back in while he had his back turned. When he checked, though, all their stuff was still spread out across the room, the table filled with various fruit (Alex’s idea) and snacks (the rest of them).

Bobby made his way back up front, catching Rose as she stood behind the bar, humming along to _This is a Call_ by Foo Fighters, which was playing through the speakers somewhere under the bar. She looked up when she heard him approaching, smiling at him, “Ready for showtime?”

“Yeah uh,” He looked around, as though the guys were just going to pop up, “Have you seen the guys?”

Rose frowned, shaking her head, “Not since they left.”

“It shouldn’t take this long, the guys are bottomless pits-” Bobby started worrying, but stopped as he heard someone come running up behind him, freezing when Bobby spun around.

It was Zach, one of their Roadies - well, not really a Roadie, but an acquaintance of the guys that they had met at the pier one day. He asked to be able to help them out with gigs, and they were more than glad to have some assistance. Now, Zach was out of breath, looking strained at Bobby, “The guys - ambulance - hospital - not good-” 

Bobby’s eyes went wide, “Where-” He started, but he already knew where they had gone. They had passed a hot dog stand in some weird alley as Alex drove them to the Orpheum, and Luke had said that they’d go back there to eat. Zach didn’t have a chance to respond, Bobby turned and ran towards the exit.

“Wait!” Rose called after him, Bobby was vaguely aware that she had chased him outside. If he had any hopes of Zach getting bad information, his hopes all crashed the moment he was in the side alley. The night sky was lit up with red, white, and blue flashing lights, the sounds of sirens filling the otherwise silent night.

Bobby’s breathing sped up, but before he could run towards the flashing, Rose took his arm, “I’m coming with you.” Later, Bobby would wonder if she knew what they were going to find before he did.

Instead of verbally responding, he just nodded and started running, she followed behind him, keeping close to his heels. There was a line blocking the exit to the alley, but a jolt of screams of “BOBBY!” from teenage girls gave him enough leeway to break through it. Rose may have muttered out a “sorry” to them, but the lights were coming closer and Bobby couldn’t bring himself to care about them.

Suddenly, he was at a tapped off section, he could only make out a sign that said ‘Sam ‘n Ella’s Hot Dogs’ police were surrounding where he knew Luke had wanted to eat at.

Bobby nearly jumped over the police tape, but a suited official was suddenly behind him, stopping him, “This is a crime scene, sir, you are not allowed back there.”

“My friends! They were here!” Bobby squirmed from the police’s grip.

“Please ma’am,” Rose said, staying back from Bobby’s flailing, “His friends were supposed to be here.”

“Oh,” The woman said, like she just understood something.

“Oh?” Bobby stopped moving, and she let him go, he spun to face her, “Three guys, Luke, Reggie, and Alex. One had brown hair and a band shirt with no sleeves, one was blonde in a pink shirt, and a black haired kid in a leather jacket?”

She frowned, “They’re your friends?”

Bobby gestured back towards the Orpheum, “My best friends, we were playing the Orpheum tonight.”

The pity in her gaze was almost enough to break him, “I’m sorry honey, they were taken to the hospital.”

“Which hospital?” He growled, inpatient.

“Dignity,” She said, after only a moment’s hesitation. 

Bobby spun and marched away from her, only to have someone grab his arm, he snapped it away and glared at the culprit, only to see Rose, “Where are you going?”

“Dignity,” He told her.

“Let me drive you,” Rose told him, eyes pleading, “You’ll get there faster than walking.”

Bobby paused for only a second, but his thoughts were running too wild, “Where’s your car?”

* * *

Bobby collapsed outside of the hospital. He had no memory past the nurse telling him that the boys were dead on arrival, but suddenly he was on the hard gravel outside the hospital. They were _gone_ , just like that. His best friends, his bandmates, his _brothers_ \- they were gone. He’d never see them again, not during his lifetime, at least. 

Was it even worth living anymore? If he didn’t have them by his side? The last three years worth of his good memories were filled with them, but now - even trying to _think_ about it made his shoulder shake harder, every memory being tainted with gone, gone, _gone_.

They were about to make it big, they always dreamed of their faces being all over Times Square, playing a sold out show in Madison Square Garden. They were going to be the next Beatles, the next Foo Fighters, the next _big thing_. But now - Bobby was alone, the three guys had left him.

It was a little fitting, maybe. Bobby was always just a little left out. Yeah, they were all close to each other, but he was older than them. He almost never had the same classes with them, when he was still in high school, and he knew that they would always go to each other when something happened. The amount of times Bobby would just wander into the garage and see one of them (or multiple of them) crashed together on the couch without him knowing, well, he still loved them, he still cared for them.

It didn’t matter anymore. They were _gone_.

Arms were around him, his mind suddenly told him, pulling him into a soft chest, stroking his hair. He would’ve thought it was Luke - Luke who always seemed to have to be touching one of them, or he’d _explode_ \- but the muscles of Luke’s weren’t there, the chest was soft, the voice had a Spanish accent behind it. 

Was this his own fault? The last thing he told them was to go eat those hot dogs, the hot dogs that killed them. Did he kill his best friends? He glared at them the last time that he saw them, that was the last that he saw of them, the last they saw of _him_.

There was a man cursing somewhere on a pay phone, Bobby thought he heard Alex’s name. _God_ , Alex had been disowned from his family, after coming out, he remembered Alex coming to them all one day, and telling them he was gay. The next weekend, while the guys were out together, they had found a small bracelet with the rainbow colors on it and gifted it to him. Alex cried, he never minded crying around them. Bobby and Luke shared the dislike of crying, neither of them knew what to do with crying people.

Now, here was Bobby, sobbing on the ground, his best friends _gone_.

“Dead on arrival” the nurse had told him, after he lied and said Reggie was his brother. They both had dark hair, they were both pale, and they both followed the black leather aesthetic, the nurse believed him, at the very least. It was possible that he just looked distraught enough, maybe the nurse decided only family would look like that. It didn’t matter. He got the news either way.

Those three words wouldn’t stop ringing in his head, and he wasn’t sure they _ever_ would: _Dead on arrival_.


	2. October 1994

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby gets in a fight with his parents before a gig and the guys decide to cheer him up.

**October - 1994**

Bobby knew that he, by far, had the best relationship with his parents. It wasn’t a perfect relationship, but he also knew that his bandmates had it so much harder than he did, so he tried not to complain. Today, though, was just a bad day. The moment that he got home from his date; his mom decided that it was time to start an argument. 

“You need to get a real job, Bobby,” She told him, arms crossed as she blocked the staircase up to his room.

“Music is my job,” Bobby told her, glaring.

“You can still do music,” She agreed, “But your bandmates have school, you can work a job while they’re there.”

Bobby mimicked her crossed arms, “I pay my bills, don’t I?” Their music didn’t make _a lot_ of money, but he used his cut to pay for his car insurance and pay the little rent his parents asked for.

“That’s not the point and you know it.”

“I really don’t,” Bobby shook his head, “I pay the bills you ask me to, why should I get an unnecessary job?”

She sighed, “You are nineteen, Bobby, I didn’t push for you to go to college, because I know you four are doing something special. Just because I didn’t push for that, doesn’t mean I don’t want to see you out in the real world, contributing to society during the day.”

Bobby narrowed his eyes, “What does that even _mean_? Our music _is_ my contribution!”

“You need a real job, I’m not saying a full-time job, I’m not telling you to spend all your time there, but you need to go out and work.” She told him, “Your father and I are putting our foot down on this, you need to go out and get a job by next week.”

Bobby had to bite his tongue from the string of curses that came over him, “Our gigs _are_ my job! It’s a job I like, too!”

“Your dad already has two interviews lined up for you.”

“Tell him to cancel them, I’m not going,” He snapped, pushing past her, “The guys and I are performing tonight, I don’t have time for this conversation.”

She reached out and grabbed his arm, “We are not done-”

Pulling his arm back, he gave her one last glare before running up the stairs. Locking his door behind him, he shoved his guitar in its case and shoved a few picks in his pocket, then walked over to his window. While he didn’t have to sneak out this way a lot, he had learned how to do it a few times while in high school, when the band had shows at clubs that he couldn’t tell his parents about, gigs they had to use fake IDs to even book.

He knew his mom would be waiting for him downstairs, and he was _not_ going to deal with that. Catching sight of his clock before sliding out the window, he already knew he was going to be late. _Whatever_ , the guys would just think the date went long - which it _did_ \- they didn’t need to know about the fight.

When he made it to his car, he tossed his guitar in the passenger seat and headed off towards the pier. One of the beachfront cafes actually booked them to do a few songs, so Bobby attempted to focus on that as he headed down there. Although his mind kept finding his way back to his mom - he had no idea where her idea had even _come_ from. They had agreed that, so long as he was making enough money to pay his pre-determined bills, all his focus could stay on the band. He _was_ always on top of what he had to pay, so he had no idea _why_ she suddenly thought he should change that. Sure, the guys were gone to school for six hours out of the day, but Bobby used that time to scout locations, talk up whoever he could in the music industry, and yeah, occasionally go on dates.

Before he knows it, he’s pulling into Reggie’s house. They tended to just park their cars there, because Reggie literally lived _on the beach_ , and parking elsewhere usually cost money. Sure enough, as he pulled in, he saw Alex’s van that they used to lug around the equipment parked already in the driveway. Alex had gotten the car from his Uncle, who thought that it was cool that his nephew was in a band and didn’t care when Alex’s mom told him that Alex was a disgrace for being gay.

Getting out and shouldering his guitar bag, he checked in the windows and saw that the equipment had all already been unloaded. Sighing, Bobby rested his forehead on the cool window for a second before standing up straight and jogging down the beach to where they were supposed to be performing within the next twenty minutes.

When he got nearer, it was Luke who caught sight of him first, “Look who decided to join us!” He called, setting his guitar down and walking over to the edge of the porch that they were performing on.

Bobby gave them a two-finger wave, “Sorry, got caught up.”

“Gina?” Reggie asked, grinning, wiggling his eyebrows, bass securely strapped around him, as he fiddled with the pick in his hand.

“Yeah, date went a little long,” He jumped up onto the wooden porch, giving Reggie a fist bump.

Luke continued to glare at him, “You’re still late.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Bobby questioned, looking around, “Show hasn’t started yet. We’re fine.”

“You can’t be late like this! The responsibility to the band-” Luke started, but Bobby tuned him out, suddenly feeling like he was back at home with his mom on his case.

Bobby walked over to the amps to get his wires organized, but he made the mistake of making eye contact with Alex. Alex was, unfortunately for Bobby, very perceptive when it came to emotions. Luke ranted near him about needing to be on time, relationships be damned - which was rich coming from him, given that he and Alex had been known to show up late since they were secretly dating, and they always made up some lie about it when questioned. Alex leaned forward from where he was already placed behind his drums, keeping his voice quiet, “You want to share what actually kept you?” Behind him, he heard Reggie call for Luke’s attention. Luke cut his rant short and turned.

“Not really,” Bobby told him, because he had a strict philosophy of not complaining about his parents to the guys. At this point, all three of them basically lived in the studio, aka his family garage, and in the end, his parents actually cared about him and supported his love for music. Which was more than Alex, Luke, and Reggie could ever say.

Alex stayed quiet for a second, before he stood up and walked around his drums, kneeling next to Bobby, “You know you can talk to us, right?”

Bobby scoffed, but promptly tried to cover it up with a cough, keeping his eyes on the wires as he detangled them, “We have a show to do.”

“Bobby-”

“I’m _fine_ , okay man?” Bobby snapped, glaring at Alex, “Just drop it.”

There was a moment where it looked like Alex was going to push, but he finally just sighed and raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay, I’ll back off.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Bobby responded, pulling his guitar out of the bag, and hooking it up. Alex stood up and grabbed one of his drumsticks, spinning them between his index and middle finger as he wandered over to where Reggie was adjusting the height of his microphone.

Bobby glared after him, catching Reggie’s curious glance, and he snapped back to his guitar. So long as he didn’t think about his mom, he’d be fine, everything would be just _fine_.

The cafe wasn’t super crowded, as it was a Tuesday afternoon - the guys had driven down here right after school - but they did end up getting an audience from beach goers. _Why_ a cafe wanted a rock band, they didn’t really know, but they also didn’t really care, because this was a _paying_ gig. Bobby tried to let himself get lost in the music, like he always did, but his mom's voice kept blocking him.

She’d seen him perform before, _why_ couldn’t she see that this is what he needed to do? He didn’t need to be flipping burgers or selling something - this was what he _enjoyed,_ and he got _paid_ for it, which should be enough to make her happy.

Three out of their five songs down, Luke slid over to him as Reggie talked to the crowd that had gathered around - advertising the cafe, as part of their deal - “You good man?”

Bobby glared at him as he drank from a water bottle that he had sat on the windowsill of the cafe. He swallowed and spoke, “Did Alex put you up to this?”

“He told us something was up, but I would’ve realized it either way,” Luke responded, “We don’t have to finish if something happened-”

“I’m _fine_ , and we wouldn’t stop our show even if I wasn’t,” Bobby told him, gulping down more water before putting the lid back on it and stepping away from Luke to put the bottle back.

Luke eyed him, “We absolutely would. We _can_ -”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Bobby repeated, “Same thing I told Alex - just drop it.”

“Bobby-”

Spinning his guitar so it was in front of him again, Bobby walked up to the front with Reggie, “Ready for another song?” He called out to everyone, he got cheers in response.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Luke stare at him for a moment longer before Alex hit his drumsticks together “One, two, three, four!”

The final two songs were a blur, Bobby put as much of his energy as he could muster into them, trying to drown everything else out of his mind. When they were finished, the owner brought out pastries and drinks for them as they started to pack up their equipment, “Wonderful show!” She gushed to them, “My daughter said you guys were good, but that was _phenomenal_!”

Alex talked to her, thanked her for having the band, while Reggie finished talking to a few fans of the show - giving out their shirts and demo. Bobby was carefully wrapping the cords around his arm, attempting to avoid a tangled mess for their next gig. Luke plopped himself down on the ground next to Bobby, pulling a long cord to him to start detangling. They worked in relative silence for a few minutes before Luke sighed, tying off his cords, “Bobby-”

“Don’t start,” Bobby told him immediately, giving Luke a hard look.

Luke rolled his eyes, “Let me talk, you _dork_ ,” Bobby stopped, mid roll of the cords, and raised an eyebrow, Luke smiled and tossed his arm around Bobby’s shoulders, “We’re going to the roller rink after here.”

Bobby stared at him, “Why? You guys all hate roller skating.”

“Yeah, well, you like it. So, we’re going.”

“Why?” Bobby repeated.

Luke squeezed his shoulder, “Because you’re being a sad sack and not telling us why, so we’re going to cheer you up.”

“And if I don’t want to go?”

Luke laughed, “Too bad, because you’re coming with us regardless.”

“I came in my own car,” He reminded the lead singer.

Behind him, he heard the jingle of car keys, and he spun around to see Reggie holding his keys. He wasn’t even sure when the bassist had finished talking with the crowd, or when he had grabbed his keys from the windowsill, “Can’t drive if you don’t have your keys.”

Bobby pushed Luke away from him and glared at Reggie, “What if I had shit to do?”

“You can do it tomorrow,” Luke told him.

“We’re not going to take no for an answer dude,” Reggie added, “So just give up.”

Bobby knew how stubborn his friends were, knew that him not telling them what was going on would just make them more determined, but in the end - “Fine, I’ll go.”

“Rad!” Luke grinned, throwing his arm around Bobby again, “Knew you’d come to your senses.”

“Oh, did Bobby agree on his own free will?” Alex asked, coming up to his other side, seeming to have finished the conversation with the shop owner.

“I don’t know if you’d call it free will,” Bobby groaned, “But yeah.”

Alex laughed, “Well, you agreed at least. Let's get this cleaned up so we can pack up my car and go.”

“You know,” Bobby said, looking over his shoulder at Alex, “I’m parked behind you, you can’t get out without me leaving first.”

Reggie laughed, waving him off, “Details, details.”

The details, Bobby realized after they had loaded up Alex’s car and he still hadn’t gotten his keys back from Reggie - was for Luke to back Bobby’s car up enough that Alex could pull his car out, then leave Bobby’s car on the beach until they came back for it. While it was pretty crowded in Alex's car, they could still kinda safely fit in it with all their equipment.

“We could drop everything off at the studio before we go,” Alex had suggested, as Luke and Bobby climbed into the backseat, and Luke complained about the space.

“No!” Bobby said, far too quickly, getting three sets of eyes to look at him, “I mean - we’re already closer to the rink than my house.”

No one in the car bought it, but they also didn’t push it more, although he got three sets of worried eyes on him, “Yeah,” Luke said, after a moment too long of silence, “It’s not even _that_ crowded back here.”

Reggie then got his hands on the radio, turned it to country, and started a full-on fight in the car, pushing Bobby’s odd comment out of everyone's mind.

* * *

The skating was fun, Bobby really did love his friends for trying. It was also pretty great watching Luke and Reggie make complete fools of themselves. While Alex wasn’t the biggest fan of skating, he at least _could_. Luke and Reggie were like newborn giraffe’s, unable to stay standing on wobbling legs. For the first half hour, the bassist and lead singer stayed on the carpet as Alex and Bobby went to show off. When that became less fun, they teased the other two until they got onto the actual rink, and immediately both fell down.

Laughing, Alex and Bobby took one look at the pathetic heap that was Luke and Reggie before they took pity on them. Alex held out his hands to Luke and Bobby to Reggie, they brought their respective band members to their feet, Bobby slowly skating backwards towards the wall, so Reggie would have something to grab a hold of, as his feet continued skating around under him. Next to him, he saw Luke almost take another tumble, but Alex caught him around the waist the last second before he crashed. Bobby tried to hold back a laugh as both of their faces turned bright red.

“Just stand still, Reg,” Bobby told him as Reggie let go of Bobby’s hands and grabbed the wall.

Reggie’s eyes went wide, “Do you think I’m not _trying_ that? There’s wheels attached to the bottom of my feet!”

This time, Bobby did laugh, “Yes, that’s sort of the point of roller-skates. You’re just fidgeting too much; you have to just stay _still_ for a second.”

“Easy for you to say,” Reggie mumbled, but still Bobby saw him make an active effort to stop moving his legs. It worked, to a certain extent, and his legs stopped trying to take him off somewhere else.

Bobby nodded, skating around in a small half circle around Reggie, “Now turn around and face me,” He paused as Reggie let out a disagreeing noise, “You can still hold the wall, Reg, just slowly turn around.”

Reggie glared over his shoulder at Bobby, and he had to hold back a laugh as he skated over. Without much grace, he took Reggie’s hands and spun him around, causing Reggie to squeak out a terrified cry, “Dude!”

“Stop being so scared! I’m right here to catch you if you fall.” Bobby grinned, going back to his half circles around Reggie, showing off just a little bit. 

“Should’ve gone with Alex,” Reggie mumbled.

Bobby couldn’t help but laugh at that, “And ruin his and Luke’s time alone?” Spinning around, he saw Luke and Alex a little ways down. Luke had one hand holding the wall and the other hand holding onto Alex for dear life, so he didn’t crash to the ground.

Reggie smiled towards the two of them, “Think they’re going to tell us?”

“Nope,” Bobby responded, “Not at all. I think they think they’re actually being sneaky.”

Shaking his head, Reggie and Bobby watched them for a moment longer - the wall vanished for half a second and Luke’s arm flailed without it there, Alex skated in front of Luke and took his other hand so that Alex was now just skating backwards. From where the two of them were standing, he saw a soft smile come over Alex’s face, Bobby averted his eyes, feeling a little odd about watching that.

Bringing his attention back to the bassist in front of him, he smiled, “Ready to learn how to skate?”

“No, but you’re going to teach me anyway,” Reggie sighed.

“We’ll call it payback for stealing my keys,” Bobby grinned, he skated so that he was in front of Reggie, “It really isn’t that hard to get started. You just have to remind yourself that you’re not walking, because, like you said, there’s _wheels_ attached to your feet.” Reggie nodded and Bobby continued, mimicking how he was currently standing, “So, you’re currently doing this, I need you to do this,” Bobby showed him exactly how to stand, and walked through what each of his body parts should be doing - chin up, shoulders back, hands slightly out with the palms down, core tight, hips dropped, feet out in a ‘v’ shape, and controlling where his body weight way in order to move.

It took Reggie a couple tries, twice Bobby had to catch him from falling and he had to remind him, “Stop windmilling your arms!”

“It’s hard not to when you lose balance!” Reggie argued back.

After fifteen minutes or so, Reggie was actually pretty stable, managing to move on his own, without help of the wall or holding Bobby’s hand, “Want to give it a run around the circuit?” Bobby suggested. Usually, it took a lot more hours of practice to get the hang of this, but he knew that Reggie was a lot smarter and more talented than people gave him credit for. The bassist had caught on quickly.

Reggie leaned against the wall, looking around at the relatively empty rink. It was just after five o’clock on a Tuesday, not many people were out. Other than Alex and Luke - who were on the complete other side of the rink, Luke leaning against the wall and Alex showed off some complex moves - there was a group of three teenage girls who were probably younger than the other guys, and a couple who looked somewhere college aged. After an elongated pause, Reggie nodded, “Okay, yeah, I’ll try.”

Bobby grinned, “Let’s get to it, then.”

Pushing off the wall, Reggie had a promising start, Bobby skated just a bit in front of him, spinning around to check on Reggie as they went, “I’m actually doing it!” Reggie cheered, after they were more than a few feet away from their starting position.

“You are,” Bobby nodded, smiling, “Told you that you could do it!”

By the time that they had made it to the other side of the rink where the other two band members were, Reggie seemed to have gained enough confidence. He picked up speed and Alex pushed himself against the wall as Reggie passed, “He learned fast,” Luke commented. Bobby stopped on Luke’s other side, “You didn’t. You guys too busy over here to try?” It was a low blow, but Bobby found it funny how both his friends' faces turned red and they attempted to stutter out an excuse.

They were saved, though, by Reggie calling over his shoulder, “Uhh, Bobby! How do I stop?”

 _Oh, yeah_ , Bobby should have taught him that. Luke and Alex both covered their mouths to stop laughing as Bobby thought, _well too late now_. Wrapping his hands around his mouth to make his voice louder, he called, “Run into a wall!”

“What?” Reggie yelled back, disbelieving.

“Run into a wall! It’ll stop you!”

What happened next was probably Bobby’s fault, Reggie - being Reggie - took him completely seriously and ran face first into the wall, knocking him back on his butt. Eyes wide, Bobby quickly skated over to him, knowing that Alex was on his tail, but was relieved to find that Reggie wasn’t bleeding anywhere. The dark-haired boy was rubbing his head, sitting up, and he glared at Bobby, as Bobby held his hands in surrender, “I meant hit the wall with your hands, not your _head_!”

“Your instructions were unclear!”

Bobby let out a mirthless laugh as Alex kneeled next to Reggie, “Are you okay Reg?”

“I’m fine,” Reggie said, waving him off, “But next time, I’m not staying with Bobby for skating. You’re taking me along with Luke.”

“Hey! You learned how to skate with my help!” Bobby said through his laughter.

Reggie put his hands down from his forehead, “You also forgot to teach me how to stop and made me crash into a wall!”

“Hitting the wall is a valid way to stop,” Bobby argued, “You just aren’t supposed to go headfirst.”

“Which, _again_ , you forgot to teach me.”

Bobby laughed, behind him he heard Luke call out, worried, “Guys? Is everything okay?”

“We’re good!” Reggie called back to him, before looking at Alex, “Help me up, please?”

Alex nodded, standing up and holding out his hands for Reggie. When they connected, Alex carefully pulled Reggie to his feet, but he clearly was okay, because he managed to keep his skates still under him, “I think we should take a pause on skating and get some pizza,” Alex said.

Bobby shrugged, “I’m good with that.”

Reggie nodded, keeping a hand in Alex’s, “I’m down for a pizza break.” He glared at Bobby one last time, before looking back at Alex, “Mind helping me over to Luke, since _someone_ didn’t teach me how to break?”

Snorting laughter, Bobby led the way back over to Luke, watching as Alex showed Reggie the proper way to stop using a solid object. Bobby sat up on the half-wall that split the rink from the carpeted floor, “Thanks for this,” He told Luke, before Reggie and Alex joined. He really was feeling better, following the fight with his mom, he had gone the whole time without thinking about it.

Luke, thankfully, didn’t need to ask what he meant, “No problem man. We’re always here for you.” Carefully, still holding the wall, Luke turned to face him, “And if you want to talk about it-”

“Still don’t,” Bobby told him quickly.

“I’m just saying _if_ you do, we’re always here for you.”

Bobby nodded, allowing a smile to slowly form, “Yeah, thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually one of my favorite chapters from this story. This chapter and the final chapter are actually my top two favorites.
> 
> I just really enjoy the idea of Alex/Luke trying (and failing) to be secretive about a relationship. Also, Reggie's amazing at anything he tries, although he doesn't give himself credit. I know it takes a lot of work to learn how to skate, but Reggie just is a very fast learner.
> 
> Next up: March - 1998


	3. March 1998

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He takes a trip to each of the houses his best friends used to live in.

**March - 1998**

Rose thought that he should get some fresh air, he had come back into town for his mom’s birthday but refused to step foot into his parents’ house. The house was filled with memories, memories of hanging out with Luke, Alex, and Reggie, memories that hurt too much to think about. He hadn’t visited their gravesites since the day each of them were buried and he didn’t plan to, either. 

So, since he wouldn’t go to the house he grew up in, he was crashing at Rose’s. Before she went to work - the Orpheum, she still worked there and he refused to step foot in that place, either - she had looked him in the eyes and told him, “Go outside. Somewhere, anywhere. You need some fresh air, Bobby.”

He had winced at that name, he was in the long process of changing it, the only three people who were still allowed to call him that was her and his parents. They were the only ones who really knew what he was going through, what he _went_ through. She got a pass using that name.

Still, she pushed him out of the door with a hug and a kiss on the cheek as she left for work, placing his car keys in his hand, “Go,” She had repeated.

For a while, he drove a little mindlessly. He knew these roads; they were roads he spent the first nineteen years of his life exploring. Roads that, from sixteen to nineteen, he learned the names of all the businesses that hosted gigs and bothered every last one of them to book his band. He remembered late night bike rides with his three bandmates, causing trouble on the rare days they couldn’t focus on music.

It should have been unsurprising to him, then, that - when he wasn’t paying attention - he just drove to somewhere that was most familiar to him. When he realized his surroundings, he took a sharp breath. He had made it out to the beach, specifically, where he used to park his car when they would have their weekly performance on the pier, or when they would have a gig at some beachfront shop. The spot he stopped at was where Reggie’s house used to be, where there used to be a whole neighborhood of beachfront houses. Now, in the place of his house, was a brand few foundation, construction tape, and signs advertising a plaza of stores coming in. 

Reggie’s family was not good, none of the guys got along with their families well, but he knew that Reggie had been physically abused in the house that no longer stood. He had caught sight during practices of bruises that Reggie used to try and hide, black eyes, a limp, the whole works. Reggie never outright told them, but they had all eventually figured it out. On a few occasions, being the oldest, he had driven over to pick Reggie up and bring him to the studio - he had overheard the screams from Reggie’s parents, the fights that he had realized had to be common ground, for how skittish Reggie got when any of the guys fought with each other.

_“Want to talk about it?” It was always Bobby’s opening line when something was up with the guys. They almost always did. This time, though, Reggie pulled his knees up to his chest, attempting to hide as he wiped away tears, and shook his head. Bobby wasn’t good at feelings, but he reached over and squeezed Reggie’s shoulder once, just to let him know he was there._

_Later, he saw Reggie crying into Luke’s chest, as Alex rubbed his back, when Bobby had gone inside his house for a few minutes to help his mom with something. He had just brought Reggie tissues and sat on Luke’s other side, always unsure if he could be of help, but knowing that him being there may be of some comfort._

It occurred to him, suddenly, to wonder what Reggie’s family did with his things. They never paid much attention to their only child, to the point where Reggie stayed at one of their houses or the studio the whole summer before they died, and his parents couldn’t have been the wiser. He felt his stomach churn, as he realized they probably just sold it all. Nothing of Reggie’s would have meant anything to them. The only people who would have cared for Reggie’s stuff either also died with him that day, or in his own case, had run away after the funeral to not be seen or heard from again.

Laying his head down on his steering wheel, he had a moment of silence for the frankly _ridiculous_ collection of country cassette tapes that Reggie collected. They were a rock band, but Reggie was obsessed with country music that he would never understand. He thought about the various plaid shirts that Reggie had, he loved his leather jacket, but any time Reggie was nervous, he was always toying with the plaid shirt he had wrapped around his waist. His bass was still in his parent’s garage, where his parents had stored it, along with the rest of the guy's instruments. He never planned on seeing them again, but they were there. The only other thing he could think of was Reggie’s banjo - his _stupid_ banjo - he could almost laugh at the memory of Reggie bringing it to rehearsal one day. For Reggie’s sixteen birthday, Sunset Curve had indulged him in a day of country music, they had all learned a few of Reggie’s favorites and just let him go hog wild on it.

A fresh hatred boiled in him for Reggie’s parents, who probably sold off all of Reggie’s things without a second thought. They would never know the memories that came with his things. He was glad the house was gone, knowing the terrible memories Reggie had there, but his _things_. The new owners would never appreciate the history of Reggie’s things.

Squeezing the steering wheel tight, he had to take a few deep breaths to steady himself. After a moment, he backed out and pulled away without looking back.

* * *

On memory, more than anything else, he vaguely knew where he was driving next. It only took ten minutes to get to Alex’s old house from Reggie’s. He parked across the street and looked towards the house, in the front yard sat Alex’s sisters, one older than he was, one younger. He couldn’t tell _what_ they were doing, but he could see that they were messing with something in a rose bush. 

Looking at the house, though, brought back memories of Alex. Brought back memories of the last time he had been here.

_It was mid-afternoon, they were supposed to have started band practice an hour ago, but Alex was late. He wasn’t ever late. Bobby had the garage door cracked open so that they would hear when Alex arrived, maybe they’d hear if his mom told them Alex was in the house. It had just started raining when Bobby, who was closest to the door, heard the muffled sounds of sobbing. Darting out, he caught sight of a soaking wet Alex. The drummer was leaning heavily on the wall to the garage, but the moment he caught sight of Bobby, he lurched into the rhythm guitarist's arms._

_“I told them,” Alex sobbed into Bobby’s chest, “I told them, and they kicked me out.”_

_Mostly hidden by Alex’s sopping wet hair, Bobby still couldn’t miss the angry hand shaped mark on Alex’s cheek. Bobby held the taller boy close, and a moment later felt Luke and Reggie coming up next to him._

_Alex lived in the studio after that._

He remembered, a few days after that incident, when Alex was asleep in the studio, the three of them packed three backpacks of eggs and traveled over to this exact house. They egged the hell out of it in the dead of night, then - when they were done - they never looked back.

Both of Alex’s sisters loved the band, after Alex was kicked out, though, he didn’t get to see them nearly as much. His older sister moved out after graduation, a month before the guys died. Alex’s family didn’t invite him to her graduation, but Andrea had invited him herself. Sunset Curve went in disguises, careful to seat themselves far away from Alex’s family, and cheered when Andrea walked across the stage.

It hit him, once again, how the three of them never got a graduation. There was a running joke, at one point, just after his own graduation, how the three of them would have a massive party. Sunset Curve, of course, would play during it. Over the next two years, though, it was clear that their music was more important than school - he just always assumed that they would make the active choice to drop out, not stop going because they were _dead_.

Alex’s little sister standing up brought his attention back to them, Amber rubbed at her eyes and he realized she was _crying_ , even from this far away, he could tell. The three siblings had the same mannerism, in the end of the day, her shoulders were hunched forward, blonde hair covering her eyes, leaning heavily into her older sister for support. 

The two sisters missed the Orpheum performance - well, they weren’t going to be able to make it, even if the Orpheum performance _did_ happen. Alex’s parents had planned an out-of-town vacation on the same day and dragged them away. He wasn’t sure what the last conversation was that Alex had with his sisters, but he hoped it was a good one.

Andrea pulled her sister tighter, he saw her mouthing something soothing, as she looked around their front yard. Her eyes paused curiously on his car, and suddenly his eyes went wide. He didn’t have the same car, he got rid of that when he took off after the guys funeral, but - he realized - she saw _him_. 

Ducking his head down, he put his car in drive and pulled away as quickly as he could.

* * *

This time he knew where he was going. At this point, he figured, he might as well. Luke’s family didn’t live that far away from Alex’s. While those two were still ‘secretly’ together, he and Reggie used to joke that they were probably masters of sneaking into each other's houses. In the end, Luke and Alex never came clean to him about their few months of dating, but the awkward tension that showed up one day clued him in that they had broken up. It only cleared up when they booked the Orpheum gig a few weeks later post-breakup.

_Luke was the first to run away from home, he remembered, it was two weeks before Christmas when he had walked to the garage and noticed Luke’s bike leaning against the wall. When he had poked his head in, he found Luke crumpled on the floor, nothing more than his guitar in its case and a garbage bag full of something - clothes, he later found out._

_It was a tough night; he had stayed with Luke and didn’t complain when the lead singer curled into him and fell into an uneasy sleep. Luke was always better off when he was touching one of the band members._

_Alex and Reggie showed up for rehearsal a few hours after Bobby discovered Luke. The brunette stayed asleep and wrapped around Bobby as they entered the garage. There needed to be no words shared between them, it only took the two of them seeing the bag of Luke’s clothes and guitar case to realize what happened._

_Within a moment, they were all curled up together._

Luke’s house was hidden mostly behind a lot of shrubbery. Lots of greenery that he knew Luke would hide in when he was thinking about going back home. He had caught Luke in these bushes before, ducking down, careful not to be seen from the windows facing it. He had caught Luke in these exact bushes only a week after Luke had shown them all his song filled with emotions about his broken relationship with his parents.

‘Unsaid Emily’ was Luke’s way of apologizing to his mom for running out. Once, he heard Reggie and Alex wondering aloud if they should find a way to sneak the paper to her. They decided against it, knowing that Luke needed to be the one to do it himself. Luke needed to make the final call, as much as it seemed like he wanted to make things better, he needed to officially tell them.

Out of the guys family, the Patterson’s were the most caring. Emily and Mitch always had their doors open, not that he ever used the offer. He knew, though, that Alex and Reggie were over quite a bit. At least, they hung out a lot there before it became clear that Luke cared far more about music than about school. That’s when everything flipped. Emily clearly didn’t like that her seventeen-year-old son was more interested in music than finishing high school, and Luke didn’t like that his mom couldn’t see just how talented they all were. It only lasted a few months, that tension, before Luke couldn’t take it anymore and ran away.

Of course, he found his all out later. After Luke had already run away. He overheard it, mostly, while Luke told Reggie and Alex about it. Looking back at the house, he saw that there were no cars in the driveway. Probably for the best.

The house reminded him of Luke’s fifteenth birthday, Mr. and Mrs. Patterson had gotten him a brand-new electric guitar, an absurd amount of picks (because Luke was _always_ losing them), and a high-quality amp. Luke had curled around the guitar and hugged it tight to his chest for the rest of the evening. 

It had been a small birthday, sure they all had friends in high school, but it had been just the four of them for the last six months prior, as their band came to be. A few of Luke’s family members were there, he remembered, and the four of them went into this very front yard and played a few rough - _very rough_ \- songs. It was their first performance in front of people who weren’t fellow high school students. Sure, they were Luke’s family, but it was just _different_. When they performed here, it was then that they realized that they could actually do it. As rough as their songs were, they were still _good_.

He shook his head, he couldn’t think about that anymore. They were gone. All three of them, gone. Leaving him alone. Alone in this world, where he could just drive by houses that they hadn’t stepped in in just under three years. They didn’t live there anymore, instead they resided six feet underground, in caskets. Staying stiller than they had ever been. Even in sleep, they would shuffle around. He would know, having been caught in cuddle piles with each one of them before.

A car slowed nearby, and although it wasn’t the Patterson’s car that he remembered, it started to make its way into the driveway. Glancing in it, he could see Emily and Mitch. Shaking his head, he pulled away. Unsure where to go next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Half way through! Hope y'all are enjoying it so far!
> 
> I found that I'm enjoying writing Sunset Curve a lot, and I got some more ideas for some Sunset Curve stories. (Reggie-centric, though, because he is my favorite character) I just really love these guys all interacting with one another.
> 
> Next up: January 2007 (almost a ten year time jump, I know)


	4. January 2007

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a sold out show, he decides to retire his old music and finds himself looking for the shadows of his long dead bandmates.

**January - 2007**

“TREV-OR! TREV-OR! TREV-OR!” The stadium screamed his name as he finished the encore performance and the stage slowly sunk him back down. He had to force himself not to look behind him, he had to look as though he was basking in the audience's cheers, as he vanished from their view. He had decided he was going to retire his old songs, today was the last performance of them, and he felt like it was closing the final page of a book he didn’t even know he was in.

MTV had taken a liking to his first album, and it thrust him into the spotlight when they made sure the world knew his name. His songs were all hits, his first tour, meant to be a couple months in the US, turned into a year long world tour. Even in countries where the citizens didn’t speak English, he would still hear the lyrics being recited perfectly to him.

The last song he played was Crooked Teeth, and he thought that was a fitting ending. It was definitely bad for his mental health, though, as the stage sunk down, he felt like he could feel the guys with him. He remembered the song writing process for that specific song, it started as a joke that Luke said, before it spun into a whole song. Bobby had been with him during it, while Alex and Reggie were at home, they showed the song to the guys later, and he distinctly remembered Reggie nudging Alex afterwards and saying “Rough luck buddy,” - no one ever corrected Reggie’s thoughts.

He shook his head, trying to clear it. It didn’t matter who the song had originally been written about, who had originally written it - they had _left_ him all alone. He had been abandoned. Anyway, the dead didn’t need credit. He had been in the room while these songs were created, he had helped with the music, with the lyrics, and he was the only one person alive who could say that. 

In the end, everyone had left him. Even his parents - in early 2000 - they left the world together, with no fanfare. A part of him wondered if he would leave with someone, but all the people he could think of to do it with were already gone. Even his wife had left him, childbirth complications, he wasn’t going to stick his heart back out there again. He still had the one person who knew who he used to be, not that she knew what he _did_ to get there, the single person who had been with him through thick and thin in the last twelve years. But now, they both had daughters, and he had been busy. 

Vaguely, he was aware of people talking to him, his manager, a PA, employees of the Hollywood Bowl - he just nodded along with whatever was being said. If he was agreeing to something he didn’t care about, he’d pull from it later, it was a part of his image, anyway.

_“We’re going to sell that out one day,” Luke had sighed, as Alex drove them by the Hollywood Bowl shortly after Bobby had graduated from high school._

_“Over seventeen_ thousand _people,” Reggie had let out a little laugh._

_Alex swallowed hard, his anxiety flaring just a bit, “All screaming our names.”_

_Bobby nodded, eyes wide as they passed, “Singing along with all our songs.”_

_Laughing, Luke ruffled both Bobby’s and Reggie’s hair, before tossing his arms around Alex - the drummer letting out an indigent sound of “I’m driving!” but Luke just tapped his chest, “We’re on our way, boys! We’ll be there before we know it. All our hard work will pay off!”_

He blinked, clearing that memory from him, he didn’t need to remember that. _They_ left _him_ , not the other way around. They didn’t make it to the Hollywood Bowl, because they decided to leave him all alone on this realm of existence. It wasn’t his fault that they did everything together, the three of them, and just left him as a second thought. It wasn’t his fault that he was a bit older than them, so they didn’t share the same classes, or that he graduated two years before they did - before they were _supposed_ to.

It was _their_ fault that he had to go watch each of his best friends, his bandmates, his _brothers_ be buried six feet under ground in a coffin before they even reached eighteen. It was their fault that they weren’t here with him. It was all their fault for _leaving him_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: September - 2010


	5. September - 2010

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some days are harder for him to deal with then others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: alcoholism

**September - 2010**

The darkness dragged him down, deep into the hole that he was always trying to fill. Once, he explained it to his therapist as an excavator having dug this deep hole years ago and he was always trying to refill it with compacted dirt and a flimsy plastic spoon. The days that the plastic spoon broke always seemed to be the same day that the excavator would come back and take all the dirt away he had already filled. Somehow, the hole opened back up, deeper each time than the last.

Clenching his hands into fist, he brought himself downstairs to his wine cellar, grabbing the first bottle that he could reach and forcing off the cap. As he tipped the bottle back, letting it stream into his mouth, he hissed at the taste. Blearily, he looked at the label, but it was too faded for him to recognize it. He just continued to chug it, instead. The pain and the terrible taste kept him grounded.

His only guiding light, his five-year-old daughter Carrie, was currently staying at Rose’s house for the weekend. She had become instant friends with Rose’s daughter, Julie, the two were practically inseparable. 

He couldn’t go there, to Rose’s house. She had bought his parents' old house. He could hardly drop Carrie off there, let alone step foot in the place with so many memories. As it was, he had to smile as his daughter told him all about her and Julie playing in the studio that he and the guys would practice in on an almost daily basis. The studio where the guys lived in before they - _he downed another gulp_.

Grabbing another bottle on a different shelf, he made his way back upstairs. He wasn’t sure where his feet were going, until he found himself with an almost empty bottle in his right hand, a full bottle still in his left, and his musical achievements in front of him. His eyes went over the name of each individual title of the songs, as much as he had tried, he couldn’t remember performing a single one of them. The only memories he had associated with each of the songs was of Luke writing them, showing them to the guys, performing them in the studio. 

_He drank more._

His popularity was dwindling, just a bit, and he knew that, his manager knew it too, but she didn’t know the reason. Not like he did. Luke only had enough completed songs for one and a half albums. He refused to touch anything they had recorded as Sunset Curve, for fear that someone out there had their demo and would put two-and-two together. Some songs Luke had finished, but they had performed enough times in the public that he didn’t trust using it. There was one song book that he knew was missing, the very last one that Luke had used before he - before they left him for good.

_He took another swig._

For the most part, he remembered the melody and words of them, although he took some creative liberty with the parts he didn’t remember. His second album sold only slightly worse than his first album. His third album, which was completely original - songwriting was never his strong suit, he could _do it_ , sure, but his manager had people to help him - tanked in sales.

_He tilted the bottle back and emptied it._

He still sold out massive stadiums on his US tour, even for as bad as his sales were, people were still flocking to his music. There were no chances of him going places without getting recognized, he knew he wasn’t really in jeopardy for that. His lack of new records on the wall, though, reminded him of what he had lost. 

Glaring at the empty bottle, his vision blurred, an image of a Sunset on the bottle filling what little he could see. He threw the bottle as hard as he could down the hall. It crashed right into a window and made a satisfying noise as it shattered. Uncapping the bottle in his other hand, he took it down without looking at it. It didn’t burn anymore, he thought it tasted sweet now. His vision wasn’t clear enough for him to make out what it was, even if this label was clearer.

With the vague memory of the satisfying crashing noise, he grabbed something large and heavy - maybe expensive, everything in his house was expensive - and threw it the same way as the bottle. This time, the object didn’t fall back into the hallway, instead it sailed through the new hole in the window and down into the pool below.

 _Another swig. The sweetness felt odd in his throat_.

Turning back to the awards that he couldn’t read anymore, he looked at where he knew the one for ‘My Name Is Luke’ was at. They had such a future in front of them, they were all going to be famous. Now, it was just him, and this is what he became.

 _Damn them_ , filled his last thoughts as he leaned back against the wall and slid down it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up: July 2015


	6. July 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the anniversary of Luke, Reggie, and Alex's death, he decided to visit their graves for the first time in 20 years.

**July - 2015**

July 29th, 1995 was forever seared in his mind. It was a day that was meant to change his life, he knew that already for weeks leading up to that particular date. Performing at the _Orpheum_ was going to change his course of life for the better. 

There was no denying that it changed his life, in the end, but it wasn’t for the better. That day, twenty years ago, took away the three people he held closest to himself away. There had been no goodbye, no final parting words, not even any fanfare - not including the sounds of the ambulance - they were just _gone_.

Some days hit him harder than others, and the twenty-year anniversary of their death was hitting him _hard_. After he dropped Carrie off at school with an overnight bag - she would be staying with the Molina’s, as her, Julie, and Flynn were working on a piece for their talent show - he found himself driving south east of their school, to Angelus Rosedale Cemetery. Where Alex, Reggie, and Luke were buried. None of their parents talked to each other, he knew, it was just another cruel twist of fate that this is where each of them ended up.

He hadn’t been back in the almost twenty years since they had been buried. It didn’t matter that it had been almost twenty year, though. As he parked and adjusted his hat and sunglasses, keeping himself as inconspicuous as he could be, his feet remembered exactly where to go. 

Alex was buried only a few rows from the entrance, he remembered watching the cars as they passed on that day. He had been leaning against a tree, watching, a few paces over. He hated being there for Alex’s funeral, because there was so much family there, almost all of them who didn’t question it when Alex stopped showing up to family events after his parents had kicked him out. 

A preacher talked for quite some time, something about how God would heal all wounds and Alex being special because he was chosen to go sooner than others. He really didn’t listen. Alex’s family had gone to church every Sunday, without fail, Alex only stopped going when he was kicked out. 

He remembers watching Alex’s sisters, as they held each other and cried. Andrea was eighteen, only a year older than Alex, Amber was four years younger than Alex, thirteen. Neither of them deserved to watch their brother be buried. They knew why Alex wasn’t home, Alex had come out to them shortly after he told the band. He was actually pretty sure that they even knew that their brother was dating Luke, whether or not Alex ever outright told them. The two girls, though, knew why their parents kicked Alex out, and they didn’t approve of what their parents did. 

The remembrance of seeing Alex’s parents at the funeral. They didn’t seem indifferent, per say, but they weren’t devastated, either. There was no outright crying, he remembered them just sort of _being_ there. It more looked like they were forced to be there, than anything else. A better person would say that they were just overcome with grief, but he knew Mr. and Mrs. Miller. They would think they were better off with Alex six feet under. In the end of his life, they basically already treated him like that, anyway.

_Alexander Oscar Miller_

_3rd February 1978 - 28th July 1995_

_God will take care of all His children_

He rolled his eyes at the headstone. Alex has always deserved a better family; it was never fair to him. 

Although, he realized a moment later, on either side of Alex’s headstone, there were small pride flags planted. They looked a little weathered, sure, but they couldn’t be more than a few months old. 

While he refused to believe that it was one of Alex’s parents, he wondered about Alex’s sisters. Maybe they were still in town? Maybe they came back to visit Alex for his birthday? He knew he hadn’t. Reaching out slowly, he touched the flag, scared that it might crumble in his hands. Something in his chest settled, just a little bit, at the fact that someone had still visited Alex. 

A part of him wondered if they even noticed, wherever they were, but it didn’t really matter. One thing he had learned from losing so many people so young - funerals and memorials were for the living, not the dead. They were gone from this plane of existence; they didn’t need corporal bodies wherever they went next.

Sighing quietly, he stood up and stepped back onto the path, only giving a single look back over his shoulder to Alex’s grave, before making his way down six rows, ten plots to the right. A tree had been planted at some time since the funeral, next to Reggie’s plot. Possibly, it was planted soon after Reggie was buried, because the tree sprouted out in all directions, giving shade from the harsh summer LA sun. 

Fallen pine needles covered Reggie’s headstone, he brushed them off, and read it.

_Reginald James McArthur_

_27th January 1978 - 28th July 1995_

_May his love for everyone carry him onwards_

It was fitting, at least. Reggie really did care about everyone he met; he was pretty sure that the boy couldn’t hold a grudge for the life of him.

Swallowing hard, Reggie’s funeral came back to his mind. His had been the last one to happen, a couple weeks after they had died. At first, while he waited for hear when it would be, he assumed it was because of Reggie’s parents. They were always fighting, enough that they would probably delay their only child’s funeral. In the end, when it actually came around, he realized it was because they were trying to arrange families to come together.

Reggie had been born in Texas, his mom’s family lived there, and his dads was up in New York. The funeral itself, still, was a complete mess. Reggie’s parents, before the casket was lowered into the grave, started yelling at each other with his casket between them. It reminded him so much of all the pain that Reggie had to go through on a daily basis. Things that he had never really shared with the band.

Suddenly, the thought that Reggie would never hold any grudges seemed terrible. Reggie, like Alex, deserved so much better. 

A year after Reggie had died, he knew that Reggie’s family sold their house and moved on. He never was able to find them again. But given the unkemptness of Reggie’s grave, he could only assume that they weren’t in the area anymore - or they were, and they just didn’t visit their son. Both of those were equally terrible. 

He wondered if he should’ve brought something to leave. He probably should’ve. He just hadn’t thought about it at the time. Hell, he didn’t even mean to come here today.

Shaking his head, he brushed the rest of the pine needles to the ground. He watched the grave for a few more seconds, before turning on his heels and heading down three more rows, two to the left. As he approached, he noticed a fresh set of flowers sitting in front of this headstone. 

His eyes slowly looked up at said headstone, as he approached: 

_Lucas Charlemagne Patterson_

_13th March 1978 - 28th July 1995_

_A son, friend, and natural born talent_

Seeing Luke’s full name again brought him back into the memory of the guys finding out about it. He and Reggie teased Luke for such a pretentious middle name, _“Dude!” Reggie had laughed, doubled over, and held his sides, “I’ve known you for four years, how am I just finding this out?”_

 _“You’re one to talk,_ Reginald _,” Luke had argued back._

 _“I don’t think you can be a lead singer of a rock band with_ Charlemagne _as a middle name,” Bobby had teased._

 _Alex had an amused smile on his face as Luke turned his glare on Bobby, “Okay,_ Robert _.”_

_Bobby had held his hands up, laughing, “I’m not the face of this band.”_

_“It’s not like we go by our middle names, anyway,” Alex countered, still smiling but clearly trying to keep the peace._

_Luke crossed his arms, “Charlemagne is also a cool name, he’s been dubbed the ‘Father of Europe’ for-”_

_Reggie rolled his eyes and tossed his arm around Luke, “Shh, dude. I don’t need to learn history right now.”_

_Bobby joined up on Luke’s other side, “We’re just all going to agree to agree that you have a fucking_ hilarious _middle name.”_

 _“_ I _don’t agree,” He argued._

_Bobby patted Luke’s shoulder, before looking at the other guys, “Let’s vote. Those who say Charlemagne is pretty funny?”_

_Immediately, Bobby and Reggie raised their hands, and - a second later - so did Alex. Luke let out an offended noise and pulled away from his friends, “_ Rude _.”_

_“It’s okay Charlemagne, we still love you,” Reggie grinned, before squeaking out in terror and running as Luke started to chase after him._

Looking back at the flowers, it was obvious someone was here recently. Possibly even today. It wouldn’t surprise him, not the Patterson family, at least.

He thought back to Luke’s funeral, Emily and Mitch were the only one of the parents that he talked to. It was heartbreaking for him to watch these parents bury their child. As hard as he thought the guy's death was on him, he knew it was harder on the Patterson parents.

While his mom had offered to all the funerals, he had ended up going to each on his own. His mom had prepared him, though, for the emotional turmoil each of the parents were going to be in, were _supposed_ to be in. He only really understood it when he saw the Patterson’s. He didn’t even plan on talking to them, he planned on standing in the back of the crowd like he did at Alex’s, just to watch his best friend get buried, before he’d leave. That ended up not happening, Emily had caught sight of him at one point and pulled him in.

Something about the way she held him, how she asked if he was okay when she so clearly _wasn’t_ ended up breaking him. He had crumpled in her arms for an unspecified amount of time. She offered comfort to him and told him that it wasn’t his fault they were gone, as though she read his mind. As he got older and thought about that moment, as he became a _father_ and thought about it, he realized that she was trying to reassure herself as much as reassure the nineteen-year-old boy that she held.

Shaking his head, he kneeled and traced Luke’s name on the headstone. Feelings that he had pushed down for the last twenty years came flowing back up, tears piled up in his eyes. He didn’t know what made him do it, but he opened his mouth and he half spoke - half sung the song that had been formulating in his mind for longer than he could remember.

“ _I don't really like myself without you // Every song I sing is still about you // Save me from myself the way you used to // 'Cause I don't really like myself without you // I really wish I hated you_ -” Lyrics never came naturally to him, but everything just pieced itself together as he talked to the headstone, talked to where Luke had been buried twenty years ago.

A part of him wondered, idly, if it was some piece of Luke helping him form the song he had never managed to before. Luke was always talented with lyrics, he had a way with words that no one else in the band did. 

“ _I hate the way that you're better off, better off // I numb the pain but it never stops, never stops // Wish I could say that I'm better off, better off now_ ” The guys never needed him, he knew that. He always knew that, even during the band. He was a _rhythm guitarist_ , he wasn’t vital to the band like the lead singer, or drummer, or bassist. Over the years, he had convinced himself that he was better off without them. He never got to be a lead singer, or lead guitarist while he was with them, those positions had always been filled. 

Sitting here, though, having already sat with Alex and Reggie, he knew the truth. He wasn’t the one better off. Where the guys went after they died, whatever comes after death, he knew - somewhere deep down inside of him - that they were still together. The three of them wouldn’t leave each other's side for anything, even for death. Hell, they even _died_ together. Minutes apart, from what he had been told. He never asked who went first because he wasn’t sure he wanted to think about it. 

He _did_ still think about it. Even as he still talk/sung to Luke. Reggie probably went first, always the over eager one for new adventures. Luke would follow, maybe squeezing Alex’s hands to give him a final boost of confidence. Alex, always the anxiety ridden one, would have held on a bit longer, but he was never too far behind the other guys, even if it was something, he wasn’t completely comfortable with doing. 

“ _Won't you say something // Won't you say something-_ ” He found himself begging Luke, at the end of the song. _A sign_ , he thought, _that maybe you’re all still together_. They all left him, twenty years ago, to fend for himself. He felt like he was back to his nineteen-year-old self, collapsed on the ground outside of the hospital, only being held up by Rose. 

He couldn’t even find it in himself to say that he had a life outside of them, his life still revolved around them. His career was _because_ of them, as much as he tried not to think too much about it. They left him here, and he was now a thirty-nine-year-old man letting out twenty years of grief in this cemetery.

His tears slid down his face, and he let them. Maybe for a few minutes, maybe for a few hours. He had no idea. When they finally subsided, he stood up and looked back at the gravestone again. Letting out a shaky sigh, he kicked his feet at the dirt, letting his memories of the guys scatter around with it, and finished the last line of the song, the last words that he ever planned to speak to him, “ _I really wish I hated you_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you all know, I had a hard time not making the middle names of Luke, Reggie, and Alex the names of the actual actors. I refrained, but only barely. 
> 
> I hope you liked this fic! It's my first multi-chapter one I've done in a long /long/ time.

**Author's Note:**

> There's six chapters to this story. Each chapter explores a different day of a different year from Bobby's perspective. I should have the next chapter up in a few days.
> 
> Next up: we go back to October - 1994.


End file.
